Tag: Liz Duff Young poems

tunneling back worm, mole, me what did he say? then—that one perfect moment trapped in the amber of imminent joy convoluted phrases seemingly clear as they fell from his lips ambient warmth, veering to love while I, inebriated worm, lolled in dumb damp bliss. wombed by his words entombed, I felt lights pulse. see, saw, see them there yes, but am I not blind? fetal … Continue reading Gaslight by Liz Duff Young

She was a condemned tenement building –all crumbling facades, erratic wiring, shaky foundation– but of course no, she was just a human, a woman, in whom many cells were born, divided, mutated and died She was not she, not really, she was cells, all so very alive. Rushing up the scaffolding of bone, the choicest among them converged in her brain, elbowing their way to … Continue reading Tenement by Liz Duff Young